Analyzing the Alphabet
by The Renowned Obscurity
Summary: Response to A Rose for me-A Rose for you's Alphabet Theme Challenge. Twenty-six one-shots. Twenty-six different pairings. And a whole lot of other fun stuff. H: Ikarishipping, PaulxDawn // Prompt: Hell
1. Almond

**I'm sure you all are groaning – not another new fic! Well it isn't really much; just my response to A Rose for me–A Rose for you's alphabet challenge. Every chapter's going to have a different pairing, whether it be het, yaoi, yuri, PokexPoke, whatever. Yeah, I'm going all out with pairings, even trying a few new ones here and there.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon and never will. Though I guess I do own my spur-of-the-moment OC, Clover.**

_**Theme: **_**Almond  
**_**Pairing:**_** MossShipping (Roark x Gardenia)  
**_**Warnings:**_** Rushed; poor pacing. Pure fluff.**

* * *

**Almond**

"Fire! It's on fire!"

Eterna City's resident Grass type expert Gardenia danced around the kitchen, holding a flaming pan out at arm's length. The billowing smoke from the dish set off the screeching fire alarm.

"Clover help me!" The Gym Leader exclaimed, calling for her assistant. A young green haired girl calmly walked into the kitchen and doused the pan with water, extinguishing the flames.

Gardenia let out a sigh before slumping down to the ground, staring forlornly at the charred remains in the pan. "My almond chicken… Ruined again."

"Oh cheer up Gardenia," Clover replied, plopping down next to her. "Just try again. You know what they say – the third time's the charm."

The Gym Leader's prime Pokemon, Roserade, came out of hiding once it realized it was safe and gazed at its Trainer with concern.

"Roark will be here soon and I don't have anything prepared! Maybe I should just cancel…" Gardenia frowned deeply.

It was becoming well known throughout Sinnoh that the Gym Leader of Oreburgh City, Roark and the Leader of Eterna, Gardenia has what some would call a "thing" going on. This would be their first official date for them though – a dinner date prepared by Gardenia. Unfortunately, the woman was a horrid cook. And being as stubborn as she was, Gardenia refused help from anyone, even her own assistant, whose cooking prowess rivaled Brock's.

"Please don't cancel Miss Gardenia," Clover said. "I really want this to go over well – just let me help."

As Gardenia looked hesitant, Roserade came to her side, a reassuring look in its eyes. The Gym Leader gave a defeated sigh. "All right… Let's do this!"

"Now that's the Gardenia I know!" Clover said, jumping to her feet and heading to the refrigerator. Fully expecting something like this to happen (she did have faith in her mentor, mind you, just not when it came to cooking), Clover bought extra ingredients. It was a good thing she did so too.

"All right!" Gardenia exclaimed, standing at the stove and rolling up her sleeves. "Let almond chicken, attempt three commence!"

***

"My son finally has a date!" Byron exclaimed, clapping Roark hard on the back. The young miner faltered, blushing, before straightening up and adjusting his hard hat. "I'm so proud!" Byron feigned tears.

"Dad…" Roark groaned, his face turning a darker shade of red. "I _really _don't need this now…"

"C'mon son, buck up!" Byron said, laughing boisterously. "Be a man! Make this woman yours!" He brandished his shovel dangerously, Roark groaning again. This was just _too_ embarrassing, even if there wasn't anyone around to witness it.

"But really son," the gruff man continued, "a Grass type Trainer? Or all the types, you had to choose Grass?"

"I didn't choose Dad, I chose Gardenia, who I happen to like quite a lot." Sure Byron was glad his son had found a girl, but couldn't help but have his reservations. Roark knew his father's feelings about Grass type Trainers and would defend Gardenia, but only to a certain extent. He didn't want to get on his father's by side, especially not when he had that shovel glinting dangerously in his hand. …Not even a hard hat could protect Roark from that.

Speaking of hard hats…

"You might want to leave this at home," Byron said, removing the crimson helmet from his son's head. "There, much better." He stepped back to admire his son, grinning. "Now you don't want to be late!" Spinning Roark around, Byron shoved him toward the door. The young Gym Leader stumbled before smiling back at his dad and heading out the door.

This date just _had_ to go well. Roark wouldn't let his dad down.

***

"Oh no, he's late!" Gardenia exclaimed, pacing at the front door. "He's probably not gonna show! He probably hates me and thinks this is all a joke! He probably –" The panicked Gym Leader was cut off as Clover stuck a hand in her face.

"Gardenia. Calm down please. He'll show up, I promise." Clover's words were sincere, but part of her was worried that her mentor was stood up. Roark just didn't seem like that kind of person though…

At that moment, there was a knock on the Gym's front door and Gardenia flung it open, expecting to see her date. Instead, a young over-eager Trainer stood there, looking confident.

"Yo! Are you the Gym Leader here? I've come to challenge you to a battle – and win!"

Gardenia only blinked. "Gym's closed!" she then yelled, slamming the door in his face. Ah, the pains of being a Gym Leader…

As Gardenia began to recover from the shock, she heard another knock. Just as before, she flew to the door, flinging it open with gusto. To her immense relief, Roark was standing in the doorway, looking sheepish.

"Roark!" Gardenia exclaimed, dragging him inside by the hand. "I'm so glad you made it! I was getting worried…"

"Yeah sorry I'm late," he replied, scratching the back of his head. "It's because I wanted to get you this." From behind his back, Roark produced a makeshift bouquet of flowers, all handpicked. He blushed as Gardenia's orange eyes lit up in pure delight.

"Oh Roark!" she gushed, throwing her arms around him, almost crushing the flowers in the process. "They're beautiful!" She took the flowers from him and placed them in a vase of water. Gardenia then took Roark by the hand once more and led him to the dining area, where a table for two was set. Like any romantic dinner, the lights were dim and a candle was flickering in the center of the round table.

Taking the initiative, Roark stepped forward and pulled out a chair for Gardenia.

"Aww, that's sweet, but I actually have to go to the kitchen first."

Roark's face fell as Gardenia disappeared through another door. So much for that attempt at being polite… Sighing, he took his own seat.

In the kitchen, Gardenia made sure all the dishes were in order before addressing Clover. "Okay, do it just as we rehearsed."

"Do I have to?" her young assistant complained.

"Yes," Gardenia hissed. "You want this date to go over as well as I want it to, don't you?" Clover nodded meekly. "Then you'll do it." She smiled sweetly before heading back to her seat across from Roark.

As soon as they got comfortable, Clover appeared, dressed in a skirt and nice blouse, looking alarmingly like a…

"Hi, my name's Clover, and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I get you something to drink?" As pleasant as she attempted to appear, Clover's annoyance seeped through her visage.

"Just water," Roark said.

Clover turned to Gardenia. "I'll take the same."

When she disappeared into the back, Roark let out the laugh he had been stifling the entire time. "Was that your…Gym assistant?!" he asked in disbelief.

"Uh…yes? …Do you think I'm being cruel?!"

"No, no," Roark replied, holding up his hands to reassure the frantic Gardenia. "I think it's…cute that you did all this for me." The Grass type Leader turned the faintest shade of pink.

It was then Clover returned with two glasses of water. "Your food will be out in a moment," she said, setting the glasses on the table.

"Wow, quick service," the miner joked. "But seriously, you didn't have to do all this. Cooking the meal, then setting this up…" He gestured to their restaurant-esque surroundings.

"Well Clover helped me with a lot of it…" Gardenia admitted bashfully. "I wanted to do it though, for you." She placed a hand over Roark's, smiling warmly. She quickly recoiled though as the door to the kitchen opened and Clover appeared, carrying two plates of food.

"For you…and for you," she said, placing the steaming plates in front of them. Bowing slightly, Clover retreated into the kitchen with a brief, "enjoy".

"Shall we dig in?"

Gardenia nodded and the two began to eat.

"Mmm! This is really good!" Roark exclaimed, swallowing a mouthful, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat. "My compliments to the chef!" He winked.

"Thanks!" Gardenia replied. "But…are you feeling okay? You look a bit…red in the face."

"Do I?" Roark scratched the side of his face uncomfortably before letting out a wheezing laugh. "Maybe it's just hot in here?"

They continued to eat, Gardenia eyeing her date nervously. He was not looking well at all.

"Hey, what kind of chicken is this anyway?" he asked.

"Almond chicken."

"Did you say…almond?" Roark stopped in mid-chew.

"Yes… Is there something wrong?!" Gardenia's voice hit a high note as she abruptly stood up.

"I'm…allergic to almonds," was all Roark managed to choke out as his silverware clattered to the ground.

***

Gardenia sat with a worried look etched on her face by a hospital bed, Byron standing above her. Roark's hand was clasped in her own. Slowly, he began to come to, blinking open his bleary eyes.

"Oh thank Arceus!" Gardenia cried, throwing herself at him. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know!"

Roark smiled weakly. "It's okay…"

"We're just lucky she got you here as soon as she did," Byron said, staring intently at the wall behind Roark's bed. "Or things could've been a lot worse…"

"Aww man," the Grass type Leader moaned, burying her face in her hands. "I ruined our night!"

"No you didn't," Roark reassured her. "I still had a good time otherwise!"

"So you would be willing to do this again?" Gardenia asked, tone hopeful.

"Of course! Just next time…hold the almonds."

* * *

**/Headdesk/ …I've written better.**

**Meh, I'm doing this challenge just for fun anyway. Though I do like the next chapters a lot more than this one…**

**Updates will be sporadic, as I'm writing them in order of preference.**

**Though since the next few are already written, hopefully I will update this pretty quickly. ...Review?**


	2. Blonde

**LancexCynthia! This is a new pairing for me! And this was immensely fun to write. Now to just fix the problem of OOCness, as I've never written Lance before, read fics with him, or remember much about him. ;; Also, I'm not sure how familiar Champions of different regions are with one another, so just run with me here.**

_**Theme: **_**Blonde  
**_**Pairing:**_** WikiErrorshipping (LancexCynthia), with hints of LancexSolidad and HarleyxSolidad  
**_**Warnings: **_**OOCness from Lance? Stereotyping based on hair color. Brief innuendo.**

* * *

**Blonde**

Lance never particularly cared for blondes.

All the blonde women he had ever met were either obsessive fan girls (once, to his immense disturbance, one of them had asked to see his Dragonair) or complete ditzes. He was probably just generalizing, but he had yet to meet a blonde that broke the mold.

As Champion of the Indigo Plateau, Lance had a reputation to uphold and couldn't be seen dating the "wrong" person. He preferred redheads like himself, with a fiery personality and fierce determination. Unfortunately though, the one redhead he dated and actually liked left him to further pursue her dream of becoming a top Coordinator in every region and ended up running off with another man who Lance was convinced was gay. But that was another story.

Lance was currently "shirking off" (as Agatha would call it) of his duties as Champion, but when there hadn't been a worthwhile Trainer in who knew how long, he didn't see what the problem was. Champions were allowed to have fun too, right? Having that title though often meant that if Lance wanted to go out in public like a "normal" civilian he would have to be incognito and keep a low profile. He did think dark sunglasses made him look pretty cool though.

As he wandered through the streets of Violet City, Lance came across a quaint outdoor café that would be perfect for scooping out the locals, whether they are girls, or prospective new Trainers. He took a seat and ordered some coffee, gazing intently at the people around him. The café was surprisingly busy, with many a person bustling about.

Lance took a sip of his coffee to only spit it out a moment later when he caught a whiff of a pleasant aroma – something flowery maybe? – and a glimpse of flowing blonde hair. Now Lance should've known better than to continue staring at the woman walking by; she probably wasn't even worth his time of day. But with that sleek, black outfit and air of modest confidence, he couldn't help but be enthralled. Plus, she looked familiar…

She took a seat not too far from Lance's table, smiling warmly as the waiter came to take her order. Lance knew he needed to be more discreet with his observation, and the sunglasses just weren't cutting it.

"Excuse me sir, can I borrow this?" He snatched a newspaper from a passing man before whipping it open to a random page. Lance pretended to be immersed in its contents when in reality he was peering over the top of the pages at the blonde woman.

As the waiter brought her order out to her, she pulled out a book and began reading. Lance had to strain himself to get a good look at the cover. By now, the café patrons were staring at him curiously, but Lance was too absorbed in his own activities to notice. So much for keeping a low profile…

"Ancient Ruins…" Lance murmured to himself once he got a clear shot of the book cover. _'Looks like some pretty heavy stuff. I guess this blonde has brains...'_

Absentmindedly, Lance glanced down at some of the day's headlines in the paper.

_'Sinnoh Champ Visits Johto Ruins'_ he read. Below it was a color photo of a blonde woman dressed in all black, a Garchomp towering at her side.

_'Whoa, a Garchomp. Nice,'_ Lance thought, admiring the massive land shark. He stared at the picture longer, realization suddenly dawning on his face. "Wait a minute…" He glanced up at the woman reading then at the photo once more. Lance practically slapped himself for not recognizing her immediately. That woman…was the Sinnoh Champion Cynthia!

Now Lance just couldn't pass up this opportunity. While was may have been blonde, Cynthia was intelligent, confident, beautiful, and not to mention, had a powerful Dragon Pokemon at her disposal. He couldn't come across too strong though. Lance had to act cool, aloof, if he was ever going to impress her.

Dropping the newspaper on the table, he stood up and sauntered over to where she was sitting. "Hey," Lance said suavely, leaning against the chair opposite of Cynthia. "You look pretty into that book. May I ask what it is?"

Cynthia looked up in mild annoyance and then glanced around the café patio before speaking, as if she was afraid of someone catching her talking to him. "Ancient Ruins in Johto," she replied tersely before getting back to her reading.

"You interested in the Ruins of Alph I take it?" Lance asked. "I know my fair share of information about that place. I could, perhaps, show you around there." So…he wasn't exactly being as aloof as he planned, but that act wasn't going to work when the woman was so disinterested.

"No thank you," Cynthia replied politely, flipping the page. "I'm here on official…Elite business."

This is why Lance didn't like blondes. They were two damn difficult. But maybe this was the perfect opportunity to impress her. He just had to reveal his identity without exposing himself to the rest of the world (_'Much like a superhero,'_ he thought, grinning). Lance wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with screaming fans.

"Elite business, eh?" Lance said, taking a seat across from her and leaning in. "I'm quite familiar with that, you know, being Lance, the Champion and dragon master of Johto!" He whispered the last part as dramatically as possible, glancing around quickly to make sure no one had overheard.

"Wow, impressive," Cynthia replied, tone dripping with sarcasm. Lance faltered. "Well, Mr. Dragon Master, this conversation was enlightening, but I have that 'Elite business' to attend to." She jot something down on a slip of paper, something that Lance assumed was for the waiter, before getting up and leaving, blonde hair whipping behind her.

Lance was at a loss. He had never been…so flat-out rejected before. By the Sinnoh Champion no less! How was she not wowed by his status? Sighing, Lance stood up, but the slip of paper caught his eye. He shouldn't be so nosy but… He picked it up, staring at it curiously.

_'I wouldn't mind taking you up on that offer, Mr. Dragon Master.'_

Below these neatly penned words, was a phone number.

"Score!" Lance exclaimed, punching the air with a fist. He merrily strolled out of the café, all eyes on him.

It was then Lance changed his mind, maybe permanently. Maybe blondes _weren't _so bad after all…

* * *

**Just to make myself seem "smart", I'm going to tell you guys that I never made the connection between Ruins of Alph and "alphabet" until writing this fic. Wow, now I feel officially slow.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little experiment of mine and reviews would be appreciated!**


	3. Cookie

**This is a bit late for Christmas I know, but work with me here. Also, I refuse to acknowledge Pluto's English name.**

**Many thanks to SuicialToeSocks for reviewing last chapter.**

…**Also, I blame Yeto/Yeti for getting me into this ship, and now it's like a tumor.**

_**Theme: **_**Cookie  
**_**Pairing: **_**Betelgeuseshipping (Mars x Cyrus), slight Jovian (Saturn x Jupiter)  
**_**Warnings: **_**None, this time.**

* * *

**Cookie**

"_Baking cookies so much fun, baking cookies for everyone! ~"_

"Well someone's in a good mood." Jupiter of Team Galactic stood in the doorway of the kitchen, grinning at the younger female Commander working at the counter.

"How could I not be?!" Mars exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "It's Christmas Eve!" The redhead danced around the kitchen, batter-covered spoon in hand.

"Hey, watch where you're swinging that thing!" Jupiter scolded, stepping back as the spoon swished within inches of her face.

Mars stuck her tongue out childishly. "You're no fun! No cookies for you!"

"Fine with me…" Jupiter grumbled. "You probably poisoned them accidentally anyway…" The magenta haired Commander stalked out of the kitchen to go find Saturn. She was just not in the Christmas spirit like Mars, but couldn't help but feel warmed by the younger girl's energetic antics. She wouldn't let it show though.

Back in the kitchen, Mars was rolling the dough flat, then using cookie cutters to punch out different shape. She had a Toxicroak, Medicham (although Jupiter still didn't deserve any), and Purugly shapes, for her and the other two Commanders. Just to be nice, she also threw in a few Rotoms, for the creepy old scientist guy she preferred not to talk to. Finally, Mars had special cookie shapes saved especially for their Boss.

After all the cookies were placed neatly on baking sheets, the redhead shoved them into the burning over and set the timer.

Yawning, Mars sat down on the table, head plopping onto the messy surface. "Baking cookies sure is tiring…" she murmured. She felt her vision darken as her eyelids fluttered closed.

***

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Hngh…" Mars groaned, blinking her bleary crimson eyes. She sniffed curiously, then coughed, inhaling smoke. The redhead was not fully awake and still had yet to realize the oven's timer was going off and a thick smoke was filling the air. Mars absentmindedly stared at the oven, blinking a few times.

"Wha… What?!"

Jumping to her feet, Mars hastily turned off the timer and the oven and futilely attempted to wave away the smoke, coughing and sputtering as she pulled the cookie tray out of the oven.

"Oh no! My cookies!"

She stared forlornly at the blackened cookies sitting pathetically on the baking sheet. They barely resembled the Pokemon they were supposed to represent anymore. Mars supposed they weren't _too _bad though. Perhaps they were still edible? Picking up a cookie she thought was formerly a Purugly, Mars took a small nibble off the overly crispy treat. She immediately spat it out.

Definitely not edible. _'Still… It's the thought that counts, right?'_

With this in mind, Mars began to scrap the "cookies" off the metal pans and deposited them in festive baggies, each labeled with a name. Jupiter, Saturn, Pluto, and finally…Cyrus. She hugged the bag containing Cyrus' cookies to her heart for a moment before gathering them all up in her arms. Now to deliver them…

Footsteps echoing down the metallic halls, Mars headed to Saturn's room first. The Headquarters seemed positively dreary, like no one except her had Christmas spirit. Which, for the most part, was true. Mars did admire the few Grunts who attempted to be festive though, wearing Santa hats atop their bowl-cut hair.

She then stopped, knocking on Saturn's door.

"What is it?" the bluenette's voice called out after a moment.

"It's me, Mars! I have a special gift for you!" There was no response, only a good amount of shuffling and hushed voices. Finally, the door flew open to reveal Saturn standing there, breathless. Peering over his shoulder, Mars could see Jupiter looking thoroughly agitated.

"Merry Christmas you two!" Mars exclaimed, thrusting the bags of cookies into their arms.

Jupiter eyed it suspiciously. "…Why are you giving use bags of crap?"

Mars pouted. "They're cookies!"she exclaimed, as Saturn gave Jupiter a hard nudge in the side.

"Be nice," he hissed at her through gritted teeth. He then turned to the redhead. "Why thank you very much Mars. _We _really appreciate it."

Her crimson eyes lit up with delight. "Really? Then why don't you go ahead and try one!" Maybe they would think they tasted better…

Saturn and Jupiter both exchanged glances.

"Well I just brushed my teeth…" Saturn mumbled.

"And I don't particularly enjoy vomiting," the magenta haired woman commented dryly.

"Oh all right then…" Mars replied, somewhat dejectedly. She couldn't really expect them to try them when she couldn't even stomach them… "Oh, and before I forget… Can you give this to Pluto? You know how he creeps me out and all…"

"No problem," Saturn said, taking the bag from her. "Thanks again Mars. And Merry Christmas!" His blue eye shot toward Jupiter, flashing dangerously.

"Yeah, what he said. Thanks."

Mars bowed her head slightly before dashing off. It was time for the most important delivery. Stepping onto the glowing green warp panel at the end of the hall, Mars vanished, only to reappear a moment later in front of Cyrus' office. Hopefully he wouldn't get upset for being disturbed…

The redhead knocked hesitantly on the door, the hollow sound resonating through the empty corridor.

"Yes, what is it?" came a stern voice from the other side of the door.

"It's me… Mars."

Inside the office, Cyrus spun around in his chair, gazing at the door. Mars? Now what could she possibly want? There were no missions to report on… Still, he invited the redhead into his office.

"Merry Christmas Boss," Mars said, grinning warmly and handing him the bag of cookies. They had originally looked like Weavile but… Cyrus tentatively took the bag from her, at a loss for words. Christmas? He glanced at this desk calendar. He had become so wrapped up in work, he didn't even notice what day it was. It was Christmas Eve… And Mars was giving him a gift. This was rather…unexpected.

Cyrus cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well…thank you Commander Mars."

The redhead blushed slightly. "Sorry they're uhh…slightly burnt. Fell asleep in the kitchen." Mars laughed, rubbing the back of her head bashfully. "Still, I hope you like them!" Before Cyrus could get another word in, Mars shot out of the office.

Cyrus slowly opened the bag, carefully picking out a blackened cookie. He nibbled the side before spitting it out in disgust. They were absolutely…horrendous.

Still, there was something about the gesture of kindness in its entirety that made him feel… Like for a moment, the ice encasing his heart had melted away. Chuckling slightly, Cyrus sat the bag on the corner of his desk.

He must've just been imagining it.

* * *

**Cyrus? Feelings? It's just not possible! Man, I could've taken a totally different direction with this, but I wanted to keep more cute than anything. I'll probably warp it around and add in some more characters so I can finally update ****Everything Will Belong to Us!**

**Anyway, reviews would be nice! :D **

**Oh, and hope any readers had a good holiday!**


	4. Diary

**Yeah, I've lacked the Internets for a bit now, so updating had to be delayed. But when I wrote this, I popped out the next few chapters, though I can't guarantee how quickly they will come. I need to update ****Of Coffee and Romance**** after all…**

**Thanks to my two reviewers last chapter!**

_**Theme:**_** Diary  
**_**Pairing: **_**Twinleafshipping (DamionxDawn), with some hints of Fortune (LucasxDawn) and Clingy (DamionxLucas)  
**_**Warnings:**_** Hints of slash (but only on Dawn's mind) while indirectly referring to those people, like myself who have a bad habit of pairing up every guy in Pokemon. So don't take offense, yaoi lovers who do this, because I'm the same as you.**

* * *

**Diary**

A heavy knock. An impatient foot tapping away. A cool spring breeze blowing past.

And a grouchy woman answered the door with a grunt.

"Hi Ms. Berlitz!" a blond boy exclaimed, way too chipper for the hour.

Johanna rubbed her bleary eyes, staring blankly at the boy standing in the doorway. "Oh hello Damion dear…"

"Is Dawn up yet?" he asked eagerly, dancing on his tiptoes, fully rearing to go. "She promised me we would go on an adventure today!"

"Damion honey… Are you aware of the time? Dawn's still sleeping, as was I," she added in under her breath. "We women need our beauty sleep you know." The blond frowned. He told Dawn to be ready bright an early. It was 7 am and they were already wasting precious daylight!

Seeing the disappointment etched on Damion's face, Johanna sighed. "I suppose you can come inside. You could try to wake her up, but I wouldn't advise it. But it is _your _life…"

Before she could even finish her sentence, Damion had already dashed past the blue haired woman and up the stairs. Johanna just shook her head and proceeded to collapse on the couch.

Damion crept up the stairs as stealthily as possible, which for him equated to loud stomping and running into walls. He made it to Dawn's room at the end of the hall in one piece though, pushing open the door quietly and tiptoeing inside.

From beneath the covers, the bluenette's steady breathing was audible. The blond merely stared for a moment at her sleeping form, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. _To wake her, or not to wake her? _That was his question.

But before he could make up his mind, a journal lying open on Dawn's desk caught his eye. Damion knew he shouldn't be nosy, but assumed it was just some sort of travel log, a collection of entries about her adventures. What if she had seen a strong Pokemon that he hadn't? What if she defeated powerful Trainers that he had yet to battle? While they were friends, the two of them were also rivals, and Damion would do anything to pull ahead.

Peering curiously at the pages, Damion began scanning the latest entry, seemingly unfinished. It was written yesterday, according to the date.

_'I'm supposed to be going on some sort of "adventure" with Damion tomorrow. Seriously, what is it with that boy and always having to be on the go? Doesn't he realize I have duties as Champion to fulfill…? Still…'_

The entry stopped there. Damion frowned. He thought Dawn _liked _going on adventures with him. That's how they both became Trainers after all, because of the red Gyrados story and a desire to find one of their own.

Dawn stirred, murmuring incoherently and writhing around beneath the sheets. Damion froze. The shuffling then ceased and the consistent breathing started up again, so the blond relaxed.

He then began to flip back through previous entries, skimming their contents.

The next one was dated March 22, a few days after Dawn defeated Cynthia at the Pokemon League, becoming one of the youngest Champions of all time. Damion expected the journal to be filled with the duties that she had been swamped with, but instead it focused on…Lucas? Professor Rowan's assistant and this other best friend Lucas?

_'Lucas has been giving me mixed signals lately. When I finally saw him after returning home from the League, he was acting all shy and flustered around me. He seemed to have something to say, but never did. Though it was rather obvious by his behavior…_

_But then I see him paling around with Damion, and there seems to be more than platonic feelings, at least that's what I think.'_

Damion stopped reading abruptly. He really hoped Dawn was joking. Him…and Lucas? But they were both guys! Damion shuddered and chose to ignore that part of Dawn's thoughts. Maybe she was just going through a phase were she thought that behind every male friendship, there was something more.

Shaking his head, he continued to flip through. If there was stuff about Lucas in there, there would have to be more stuff about him. That only made sense, right?

Finally Damion found one, dated only a week later than the one he just read.

_'I battled Damion today, at Battle Island, north of the Pokemon League. Only the most powerful Trainers were permitted to travel there, as it was home to Sinnoh's Battle Tower._

_Anyway, the battle was very intense, both Damion and I giving it our alls. I never expected anything less from him. I came out on top though. Still, even though he lost, Damion did not get down on himself. Instead, he vowed to keep training and become stronger._

_That's the one thing that I admire about him. He doesn't let anything knock him down; any losses only inspire him to become better. His fiery determination never seems to falter. Sometimes, because of this, I believe that he would be a more suitable Champion than I.'_

Behind him, Dawn groaned loudly, but Damion ignored the noises, becoming enraptured in her writing. Who knew she thought so highly of him?

_'And I know it may seem cliché,'_ Dawn continued in her writing, _'-the whole falling in love with your childhood best friend thing… But I think it just might be happening…'_

Damion paused, jaw hanging open slightly. Now he definitely knew she shouldn't have read any of this. _'But…Dawn likes me?'_ The blond felt himself blush and he glanced behind him at Dawn's no-longer-sleeping figure.

Wait a minute… No-longer-sleeping? As in awake?

Damion's blood turned to ice in his veins as he stared, dumbstruck, at Dawn. The bluenette blinked once, twice, not yet fully comprehending the situation. And then…

"Damion Pearl!" she screeched, face turning as red as a Cheri Berry. "Were you reading my diary?!"

"No, no! I swear I wasn't!" Damion exclaimed, holding up his hands. He ducked as a Piplup doll sailed across the room, hitting the wall and falling onto the desk pathetically. The next thing he knew, he was being pelted with stuffed animals, Dawn furiously flinging them at a rapid-fire pace.

"Dawn! Wait! Stop!" Damion yelled. "I…I like you too!" The blond immediately clasped his hands over his mouth.

Dawn ceased her barrage, blue eyes gazing at him in disbelief. She felt herself turning red, from embarrassment, not anger, and turned her head away from him.

"You…you read my diary, you liar," Dawn whispered, though her tone of voice was not angry in the slightest. Her face, tinged with pink, had the cutest expression, Damion thought in passing.

"Uh yeah, about that…"

…Damion didn't even have time to dodge as a pillow smacked him square in the face.

* * *

**Yeah, I just had to end it there. God, I love writing Damion. I think he's now my most-written character…**

**Uh, not much else to say except please review! I want to know what you guys think!**


	5. Everything

**Man, it took me forever to decide on the shipping for this chapter. I ran through ideas for Poke, Ikari, and Ignition, before finally settling on Senirasushipping.**

**Still not very happy with the result though. And I actually struggled to make it 500 words long :/**

**Anyway, thanks to SuicidalToeSocks and Blake for reviewing last chapter!**

_**Theme:**_** Everything  
**_**Pairing: **_**Senirasushipping (Volkner x Candice)  
**_**Warnings: **_**Pointless fluff D: And something that can be misconstrued as an innuendo haha.**

* * *

**Everything**

Nothing in Volkner's life was going right. As in _everything _was going wrong.

He had hit that battling slump once more, and nothing seemed to pull him out of it. Not even Flint putting on a red clown nose and parading around Sunyshore, scaring the children. While it was good for about…five minutes of amusement, Flint's dressing as a clown didn't have much to do with battling, and thus didn't help Volkner in the long run.

He also let himself become disappointed over the false rumors that the balance of power in the Elite Four was shifting, even if he told himself not to get his hopes up. Word on the street was that Cynthia was stepping down and Lucian was taking her place, or that Bertha was leaving for Kanto to live with her sister; all sorts of wild things. And Volkner allowed himself to be sucked in, true dream of being a member of the Elite Four coming to the surface, only to get shot down when the rumors were proven false. This only pushed the blond Gym Leader deeper into a rut, so much that he lacked the inspiration of battle.

But no, that wasn't all. Volkner's close friend, a lone girl who he has met on the beach of Sunyshore City, was heading back to her homeland of Johto. While the blond didn't harbor any romantic feelings for the auburn-haired Gym Leader, they had bonded during her time in Sinnoh. He was going to miss their talks on the beach; it was quite sad to see her go. That alone was enough to get just about anyone down.

Volkner sighed, dropping down on the warm sand and staring up at the sky. Clouds were lazy drifting by against a bright blue backdrop without a care in the world. He was envious. Closing his azure eyes, Volkner hoped that some magical force would whisk him into the sky were he could simply hang there, just like the clouds.

Actually, Volkner wished that Flint was there. He could use some cheering up through the form of the afro'd man's crazed antics. Or better yet…

"Volkner! Oh Volkner!"

Looks like his prayers were answered.

A black pig-tailed girl bounded down the beach, waving enthusiastically. A large smile graced her face, lighting up all her features.

Just seeing her – Candice – running toward him, as cheerful and bubbly as ever, warmed Volkner's soul. The Snowpoint City Gym Leader plopped down beside her boyfriend, snuggling close to his side.

"Please don't be thinking sad thoughts again," Candice told him, sternly but sweetly. "And don't tell me you weren't, because I know you."

Volkner chuckled slightly. "Fine, fine, you got me. But it's hard…"

"Don't, 'but it's hard' me!" Candice exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. "If you don't cheer up, I _will _tickle you." The blond simple glanced up at her, an amused smirk on his face. "I'm being serious," she warned. Volkner sighed forlornly and turned away, staring out to the northern sea.

That's when Candice attacked, deft fingers ghosting over the blond's ribcage through his shirt. Volkner squirmed, laughter escaping his lips and ringing through the air.

"Stop – stop!" he pleaded through breaths. He hated having Candice know his one weakness, the one thing that could make him break through his stoic demeanor.

"Not unless you cheer up!"

…But sometimes, Volkner thanked her for it.

"All right, I give!"

Candice gazed at him skeptically but stopped nonetheless. They settled once more, the black haired girl nestled comfortably into Volkner's side. And suddenly, with Candice there, everything didn't seem so bad.

* * *

**See, I dig the ending (except for it's abruptness), even if it is pointless fluff. But it's better than the beginning, at least I think so. Meh, whatever.**

**Prepare for angst and omgshoujo-ai next chapter!**

**And please leave a review; it would be greatly appreciated!**


	6. Fire

**Oh wow, I updated absolutely nothing last month. **

**This chapter isn't that great though… Like it's really shallow compared to how I originally planned it, but oh well, whatever, because I forgot there was a deadline and chances are I won't meet it unless I get over my dislike of this chapter and get a move-on. Because I have the next 3 chapters after this one already written out…which is a first for me.**

**Anywayy, thanks for my reviewers last chapter! It means a lot!**

_**Theme: **_**Fire  
**_**Pairing: **_**Cremateshipping (Flannery x Phoebe)  
**_**Warnings: **_**Lame!Angst, shoujo-ai (that means girlxgirl. Don't like, don't read.)**

* * *

**Fire**

Everyone is afraid of something.

Everyone has one thing that they cannot stand, something that terrifies them to no end, whether it be the dark, clowns, or spiders, just to name a few.

For Phoebe, this one thing was fire.

Any hint of flames – intense heat, acrid smoke – invoked a deep-rooted feeling of fear in the girl, one that set her wits on end.

Often, phobias are caused because of past event, something that has happened once upon a time that scars someone, maybe permanently.

Phoebe had only shared her phobia, or the event that triggered it with a few. It was too usually too painful to recount that day when it all went up in flames, her precious Duskull lost in the blaze…

But that was ten years ago. To the day, actually. And thus Phoebe made her way up Mt. Pyre, to pay respect to the departed. A thick mist hung stagnant in the cold air, obscuring any sight of what was ahead. But Mt. Pyre was her second home, and she had traversed its peaks many times since she was a child.

As rarely anyone was brave enough to trek to the top, Phoebe found herself immensely surprised when she could make out a figure through the fog. She carefully stepped forward, only able to discern a shock of fiery red hair pulled into a high ponytail.

"Hello? Who's there?" Phoebe approached the figure and tapped them on the shoulder. Startled, the person, a female, jumped back, emitting a shriek. She held up her arms in a pseudo-karate-defense manner, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," Phoebe said. The person appeared to be about her age. She wore a black T-shirt that exposed her midriff, and a pair of baggy jeans. Sensing Phoebe meant no harm, the girl backed down, but still eyed her warily.

"It's okay… I've just never seen anyone come up here before."

"…I was about to say the same. It's quite sad, how most people cannot find the time to visit the graves of the departed anymore…" Phoebe looked down at the ground forlornly, not noticing the strange looks she was receiving from the other girl.

"Well… My grandmother would always tell me that it was the right thing to do, when I was a little girl. So I finally had to courage to come up here on my own. …My name's Flannery, by the way. What's yours?"

"I'm Phoebe," the tanned-skin girl replied, finally looking up at Flannery, whose eyes were shining with admiration.

"…Wait, _the _Phoebe? Of the Elite Four? The one who is known for determining the level of friendship between a Pokemon and their Trainer, just by looking at them?"

Phoebe nodded shyly, pink smearing across her cheeks. "But I wouldn't take it _that _far…"

"That is too cool!" Flannery exclaimed, grasping Phoebe's small hands between her own. "I've always wanted to meet you – or any of the Elites for that matter! Do you think you could examine the bond between me and one of my Pokemon?"

Before Phoebe had the opportunity to answer, Flannery whipped out a Pokeball, and in a flash, a Torkoal appeared. The fire tortoise blew smoke out of its nostrils, flames spouting from the hole in its back.

Phoebe's eyes grew wide as the flames danced before her. Never taking her eyes off the Torkoal, Phoebe took a few fearful steps back.

I'm – I'm sorry, but I can't," she stammered before taking off and not looking back.

***

After that day, Phoebe felt absolutely terrible. All Flannery had asked was a simple favor, yet she ran. But Flannery was still a complete stranger to her; Phoebe couldn't exactly just explain the issues she had with fire. After all, it was hard enough telling Steven when she first obtained her position as an Elite... But she had promised to try not to let it interfere with her battling.

Still, as much as she didn't want to, she had to face Flannery again, even if it meant facing her fear.

And so Phoebe visited Mt. Pyre every day in hopes of running into Flannery once more. It wasn't until a week later that she had any luck.

Hearing hesitant footfalls behind her, Phoebe spun around to come face-to-face with Flannery. The two stood there awkwardly, Phoebe rubbing her toe into the dirt.

The redhead was the first to speak, taking a few steps closer to the Elite. "Phoebe… Did I do something wrong?"

Despite herself, Phoebe laughed, an airy laugh laced with discomfort. "No, it's not you," she said, turning to face the tombstone stuck haphazardly in the ground. "…But, I'm not sure if it's something I'm ready to share with just anyone yet." Still, she felt this odd sense of ease around Flannery, like she could almost tell her anything. Phoebe had never felt this way around just anyone before.

"…I understand," the redhead finally said.

Biting her lip, Phoebe willed the tears not to fall. But before she knew it, silent tears were running down her face, and she was caught within Flannery's comforting embrace… There wasn't much else Flannery could say or do, and couldn't help but feel slightly awkward. But little did she know, Phoebe felt quite the opposite.

The Elite felt as though she could've remained within Flannery's warm arms forever. But Phoebe wouldn't let her know this just yet. She already felt slightly guilty for springing this either situation on the redhead.

Still, Phoebe hoped that eventually, she could develop a friendship with her. And with this friendship, that she could eventually conquer her fears.

* * *

**I changed the ending last minute…but still, I wouldn't even bother to review this monstrosity. **

**Next chapter is better… At least I think so. Hooray for stream-of-consciousness writing and ranting! I'll probably update later today just so less people will read this one.**


	7. Girl

**Good little minions. You listened to me last chapter. Here is your reward.**

…**But I don't know why I like this chapter, especially since it's basically Green ranting and me trying to reach 500 words. Lots of repetition and lack of sentence variation ftw.**

**Keep in mind that I've never read Pokemon Special, only some chapter summaries, so some of my details may be a bit off. Please don't yell at me! ;;**

_**Theme:**_** Girl  
**_**Pairing: **_**OldRivalshipping (Green x Blue), hints of Specialshipping (Red x Yellow)  
**_**Warnings:**_** None**

* * *

**Girl**

"Pesky girl."

Green couldn't count the number of times he had heard these words leave his lips, directed at a certain girl who was indeed quite pesky. He honestly didn't understand the joy she got out of being so…peppy and obnoxious all the time. Green wasn't oblivious to her not-so-subtle flirting with him, with Red, with pretty much any guy. Green would pretend not to notice though, and pretend that her flirting meant nothing to him, when, in actuality, it meant everything.

_Pesky girl._

He wasn't supposed to feel this way. She was just supposed to be friend, a rival even, but an annoying one at that.

Green never stopped to wonder why she acted like she did though. Maybe, she desired the attention after growing up without her parents, as a Masked Child. Or maybe that was just who she was – your typical pesky girl. After all, even after she reunited with them, he still found her to be as annoying as ever.

Green did not want to admit that he had warmed up to her, if only a little. He didn't like to think about the way her laugh, her smile, or how they made him feel. He especially didn't like to think about the way her skirt swished around her thighs and how that made him feel either, even moreso in his teenage years.

_Pesky girl._

Green sometimes wondered why she couldn't be more like Yellow – timid, yet determined, and not at all pesky. But then he realized that if she was more like Yellow, he wouldn't think about her nearly as much.

Green hated the fact that he thought about he as much as he did. That whenever he closed his eyes, an image of the laughing brunette would drift lazily by. That whenever this happened, he couldn't stop himself from blushing. And that, when this happened, Red would always ask questions Green didn't exactly know how to answer.

_Pesky girl._

...Yellow said that too much hate was bad for a person. That you should feel compassion for all, people and Pokemon alike.

Apparently, she had never been in Green's situation, where it was next to impossible not to feel hate, even if it was only out of denial.

Green was sure Yellow didn't know what is was like to think about someone as much as he did. But according to said pesky girl, Yellow thought of Red. A lot. But they got along fine, unlike Green and that girl of his.

Well, he didn't mean _his _girl exactly. But, you know.

Green couldn't stand it when she would drag him random places, shopping mainly. Didn't she know that boys, especially Green, weren't into that sort of thing? Clearly, she did not.

Yet, when she needed a new outfit, it would be Green she turned to first, never Yellow. Green secretly thought she enjoyed torturing him, enjoyed the look on his face whenever she modeled an outfit for him. It was a sick pleasure of her's; Green was convinced.

He would never sound interested when responding to her enthusiastic, "How does it look on me?". It was always the same, half-hearted, "Great", even if he really wanted to jump up and tell her how amazing it looked and that she would look beautiful in anything anyway.

But Green would never tell her that.

_…The pesky girl._

Green hated all the feelings he had about her all the time. He didn't care what Yellow had to say about hatred and how it tainted the soul; he just couldn't help it.

Because Green hated more than anything that it was her – the pesky girl – that he loved with all his heart.

* * *

**Don't ask me why Green thought about Yellow a lot. I'm not even sure of how they interact around one another, tbqh. :/**

**Still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that it didn't suck as much as the last one! ;;**

**So yes, now reviews would be greatly appreciated. :D**


	8. Hell

**At first, I took the prompt quite literally and had it taking place in Hell. And it was going to be one of my first attempts at a full on PokemonxPokemon pairing (HoundoomxNinetales). But I decided against it, and wrote Ikarishipping instead. Yes, Ikarishipping, the one Pokemon ship I usually can't stand. It's AU, taking place in the distant unlikely future, in which Paul and Dawn are actually…married.**

**And a big thank you to my reviewers last chapter!**

_**Prompt: **_**Hell  
**_**Pairing: **_**Ikarishipping (Paul x Dawn)  
_Warnings: _A bit o' language, but nothing bad.**

* * *

**Hell**

The following defines Paul Samuels' idea of hell:

Meeting Dawn Berlitz

Going on a date…or two…or more…with Dawn Berlitz

Falling in love with Dawn Berlitz

Marrying none other then…Dawn Berlitz

Paul had already accomplished the above four items, but that was only the start of it. He had finally reached the bowels of hell, the final level to which he was condemned…

Getting Dawn Berlitz pregnant.

After suffering though her morning sickness, mood swings, and odd cravings nearly everyday, Paul often found himself asking, "How did I get dragged into this?"

And then he remembered – it all started when Dawn _had _to start flirting with him when he was most susceptible. And before he knew it, he was pulled into a life of drama, craziness, and _Dawn._

Currently, Paul was sitting on the couch with said woman in their suburban home. Dawn was flipping through a baby magazine, occasionally stopping to feel the kicking in her stomach.

"So… What color do you think we should paint the baby's room? I was thinking a pale yellow, for gender neutrality, you know?"

Paul looked away from the magazine, nose turned up in disgust. "How is pale yellow gender neutral? Seems more like a girly color if you ask me…"

Dawn tried her best to whip around and face him, and despite the great effort that it took, rage was still reflected in her azure eyes. "How dare you criticize my ideas?!" she screeched. "And '_too girly'_? This is coming from a man who loves purple for God's sake!" She turned away from him, crossing his arms and huffing. Paul simply rolled his eyes… He was used to random bouts of rage like this.

Suddenly, Dawn's body began to tremble and Paul nearly panicked, believing it to be another strange side-effect of the pregnancy. Upon further inspection, he realized Dawn was…crying? Paul groaned inwardly.

"All…I wanted…was for you to respect me," she said between the tears and sniffles. "For us…to come to an agreement…about _something_. This isn't just my baby, you know?!"

"Fine, fine," Paul consented. He had finally learned after all those months that it was futile to argue with a pregnant woman. And even moreso a pregnant Dawn. "We'll paint the walls pale yellow…"

"I knew you would see it my way eventually." Dawn smirked triumphantly. "Now be a dear and get me some coffee ice cream. With strawberry topping. And pickles. And maybe even some of that leftover calamari in the fridge."

Paul wrinkled his nose. "Jesus woman, are you even aware of what you're putting inside your stomach?!"

"…Are you calling me fat? …Because I'm eating for two if you weren't aware!"

Shaking his head and standing up, her husband drudgingly made his way into the kitchen. No matter how many times he told himself not to argue with her, Paul couldn't seem to resist. Opening up the freezer, he asked himself once more why he was putting up with this. And then once more Paul remembered that for some crazy reason, he was in love with the hormonally imbalanced woman in the next room over.

After piling the ingredients into a bowl, Paul walked back into the living room, grudgingly handing his wife the…concoction. It couldn't even be called food, really… Dawn scrutinized the bowl carefully, before looking up at Paul, an unreadable expression on her face.

"…You forgot the pickles."

Her husband buried his face in his hands. "You know Dawn, living with you is absolute hell."

The blue haired woman only smiled, leaning up to give Paul a kiss on the nose. "I love you too. …Now get me some goddamned pickles!"

* * *

**xD I'm sorry I couldn't resist making this one ridiculous. But I had so much fun writing it...**

**So reviews, please? /puppy dog eyes/**


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